


Oath and Calling

by HouseofAustrich



Series: Friday Night Dragon Age Writing Circle [1]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Sappy, Search for the Calling, The Taint, angst about calling, can you tell i find oath swearing romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 23:43:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13798842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HouseofAustrich/pseuds/HouseofAustrich
Summary: Written for the DA Friday Night Writing circle on tumblr, I was given the prompt "I will always protect you" from my prompt list, and decided to write a small fic centred around my Warden and Zev.





	Oath and Calling

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: “ I will always protect you”
> 
> Takes place roughly before Inquisition, about 9:39-40 Dragon.
> 
> also pls give me a better title for this fic lmao

It was getting worse.

Dreams, which she had all but forgotten since the Blight had ended, had begun to reoccur. They were slow at first, but over time they had become more frequent, rivalling the blighted nights she had spent sleepless.

Standing at the edge of the dirt road, Arilla watched as the apple trees swayed in the distance. They danced to the song only she could hear, the sweet lullaby of tainted gods. The orchard belonged to Soris’ family; his wife’s parents had given it when their marriage --of an elven man and a human noblewoman, no less-- had caused a stir in Denerim. It might have calmed most people, but it hadn’t stopped Shianni from being killed.

If she failed, she would be together with Shianni soon.

But if she failed, she had so much to lose-- so much to say goodbye to. She could see her family in the orchard, her father and Soris, his twins curled up in their mother’s arms. She had said her goodbyes to them before leaving, but it seemed she could not leave. She would miss them if she failed. The thought seemed to make the humming louder, only broken by the sound of her husband’s voice.

“Mi Amor, I will not be left when I could be at your side,” Zevran’s voice was steady, insistent. He took her right hand in his left, interlocking their fingers. She refused to look at him.

“I already told you no,” Arilla closed her eyes, the dancing trees disappearing into the backs of her eyelids. They had argued for days about her choice to go alone, to search for a cure to the taint that plagued Grey Wardens from the moment of Joining. She had said it was dangerous, he had said that danger was all the more reason for him to come along. She had known it was a bad excuse for her real reason.

“Arilla…” Zevran placed his hand along her jaw, gently forcing her to look at him.

“Damn you… for making this harder,” She hissed through clenched teeth.

Zevran only grinned at her, “Damn me if you must, in order to change your mind.”

Arilla was silent for a moment.

“Did I ever tell you what happens when a Grey Warden reaches the end of their life, or rather… when the taint begins to overwhelm the Grey Warden?” She asked slowly, watching Zevran.

“The Grey Warden goes on their Calling, as it is their belief that dying in battle is more noble than dying with the sheets tucked up to your chin, no?” Zevran tilted his head, awaiting her response.

“Not... exactly, rather… we become ghouls… and then… broodmothers if female… I-I think,” Arilla’s voice trailed off, the thought of deep roads and broodmothers making her eyes darken, “We already know what the darkspawn use female captives for..” Zevran sighed softly as the uneasy truth settled between them. He thought he had known what her greatest fear was, but he was wrong.

Arilla closed her eyes, holding back tears. She did not like crying, nor did she like feeling terrified of her potential future but Maker, Zevran made it easy to crumble.

“Do you remember the oath I swore to you? On our very first meeting?” Zevran asked softly, his voice warm.

“The one you swore after I decided not to kill the assassin who failed to kill me, like the crazy fool I am?” Arilla sniffed, a small sad laugh escaping her lips. 

“Yes... that one.”

Arilla smiled weakly. It had seemed like a bad decision at the time, but she had not come to regret it. Zevran leaned in to kiss her cheek; there would be no tears.

“Do you remember the oath I swore in Denerim?”

“I do,” Arilla breathed her reply, “Tell me it again.”

“My dear Warden, by your side I would willingly storm the gates of the Dark City itself,” Zevran replied, voice firm. He would not crack, nor would he crumble for as long as she needed him.

“And now, come cure or Calling, Dark City or voided Oblivion, know I will always protect you,” He continued, “You needn’t fear darkspawn or Maker knows what, this I swear to you, for I am your man.”

With that, he leaned in, kissing her gently on the mouth. The Oath was sealed.

Arilla pulled away slowly, letting out a laugh. 

“Fine, you can come you bloody bastard…”


End file.
